Alex Is In The Hospital
by Amberlia
Summary: He woke up in a cell with a small lump underneath the skin of his forearm. Thrown back into the word of espionage once again, the stakes have been raised. MI6 has lost contact with him. In a secluded hospital seemingly in the middle of nowhere, Alex is on his own. A two-month rest period gone wrong, he is forced to play this dangerous cat and mouse game all by himself. ON HIATUS.
1. Let The Grown Ups Talk

**A/N: This is the first chapter of a short story that I am doing on Alex. Thank you anybody who read my last story and please do tell me what you think about it. And sorry I must say this, but Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz and not me.**

14 year old Alex Rider found himself in the hospital yet again. He wasn't even remotely surprised. Count on his luck to end up in the hospital when every other teenage boy and girl in Britain was just coming home from school, grabbing something to eat from the kitchen and tossing their books and homework aside as they flipped on the television to watch some TV.

Alex had his eyes closed. He knew he had been shot. He had felt the bullet hit his arm, had felt the numb yet at the same time, sharp sting and the numb feeling afterwards.

He didn't want to glance down. He didn't want to imagine what his arm looked like, because he was afraid that he might puke of faint or something remotely embarrassing like that. He could feel the wet stickiness of blood on his sleeve, the metallic smell unique to blood, the fact that his breathing was rattled. A oxygen mask had been forced on his face he didn't know how long ago, but despite this, he felt like he couldn't breath.

Alex wanted to lift up his head, but it felt like a hundred pounds. Jack was there with him, being stated as his legal guardian, although it had required a bit of a legal hassle considering that Jack was not his relation nor his parents or uncle.

The doctor, a man who looked to be about 50 years old with a greying beard and unnaturally soft hands, was currently measuring Alex's heart rate. This was a necessary step as Alex might be in shock, and a surgery could potentially kill him.

A nurse came into the room as soon as the doctor was done checking his heart rate.

" He can go to surgery now."

" Thank you." The doctor didn't bother buttoning up Alex's shirt. Instead, he gently removed Alex's arm's from the sleeves so Alex was entirely bare chested.

As for Alex, he was too exhausted and tired to be embarrassed. All he really wanted to do right now was take a nap. His eyelids started drooping…

" Alex!" A voice snapped his eyelids open, just as he was starting to reach a level of unconsciousness required for sleeping. It was the doctor.

His eyes and tone softened a bit. " You can't sleep yet. We were going to give you a sedative and than you can sleep."

For the millionth time in his life, he cursed MI6. This would have never happened had it not been for that mission in Germany.

" Come on, Alex," they had said, " it's not even an official mission. We promise you won't get hurt."

Well, how about that? He had come back shot in the arm and with what appeared to be several cracked ribs. He couldn't tell for sure, but the fact that the skin surrounding his ribs was blue and black and purple and there appeared to be odd shapes that poked out of his skin and stung whenever someone touched them suggested that at the very least, a cracked rib, and at the most, a broken rib.

Another nurse entered the room. Alex tried to turn his head to see her. It felt like lifting a 200 pound sphere. He eventually gave up trying to turn his head and instead tried to focus on his breathing.

" Here's the sedative, doctor." Alex could hear with startling clarity the exchange of a needle. He didn't like needles, and considering that he got at least one injected into him every month, he really should have been used to this by now.

Alex had memorized the drill. A alcohol swab, followed by that moment where Alex did his best to _distract_ the doctor, and than followed by struggling to _avoid_ the inevitable-the needle plunging down into his skin.

Alex shuddered. If he ever got to it, he swore to invent something do children like himself had to never get another injection in their life. Maybe a pill? Yes, a pill could work. Or a skin patch, although ripping it of would probably hurt and it would take a longer time to deliver the antibodies.

The doctor's face loomed over Alex. He tried to calm down. He could see the needle, loaded with a canister of clear liquid. It was like the movies. The doctor squeezed out a little drop of liquid, looming on the needle for a second before the doctor prepared to plunge it down.

Alex shut his eyes, expecting a sting followed by slipping into unconsciousness, but than the doctor said-

" Ma'am you do know that you will have to wait outside for him while the surgery is being administered right?" The doctor asked Jack. Alex was thankful for the distraction, however momentary.

"Yes." Jack nodded. " How long will the surgery take?"

The doctor looked at Alex. " Anything from forty five minutes to two hours. We still don't know how deep the bullet's gone or how much damage was caused to his muscles and surrounding tissues."

Great. Just great. He was going to be cut open and poked and prodded for two hours. At this rate, it hurt less to get shot than to actually get the bullet removed.

" Alex, your arm please." Oh no, the moment he had been dreading. Alex wanted to strangle Blunt right now. Blunt didn't know how it felt to get stabbed with needles at least once every month. Or what it felt like to be shot. If he knew, Alex doubted that he would ever send another teenager like himself on a mission.

There was a pinch; than uncontrollable drowsiness started creeping in. He felt someone stroke his hand reassuringly; probably Jack, and than there was no more.


	2. Worlds Apart

****Chapter 2: Flashback****

* * *

 **A/N: I have nothing to say except, that unfortunately, I do not own Alex Rider. He belongs to a man named Anthony Horowitz.**

 _ **The bullet hit Alex's rib at the so much speed that for a moment, it didn't hurt much. Than the pain set in. It started out slowly, on one spot, but it quickly spread so that Alex was feeling agony through every spot or his body.**_

 _ **There was a blood in his mouth. It tasted like rust and spit. His lip must have been bleeding, because when he wiped his mouth there was blood on his sleeve. He was so tired. He was so sick or all this. He was sick. He wanted to go home, kick around a football with Tom and James, talk to Sabina, go get ice cream with Jack. Or course, he knew this wasn't possible but it was nice to imagine.**_

 _ **More shots fired at him. People screaming. Alex ducked around a corner, leaning against a red mud brick house which was common in these parts of the desert, and caught his breathe. There was a raw taste in his mouth. He wanted to drink some water, but there were more shots, fired too close for comfort, and Alex started running again.**_

 _ **He passed a woman and a child. She yelled at him in a foreign language, one Alex didn't understand, and Alex shouted back to her for her to run, though he doubted that she understood him.**_

 _ **He kept running up the streets, ducking around people, trying not to trip and stumble on his own feet. No one gave him a second look, although the sight of a teenage boy with blood slowly seeping through his clothes and mouth, running like his life depended on it seemed pretty darn suspicious if you asked Alex.**_

 _ **Alex knew he couldn't keep running. He had to stop eventually. But where? Almost all the houses were empty, but he would be a sitting duck if he dived into there.**_

 _ **Then he saw it up ahead. A abandoned old shed, probably used to store grain or food for winter. It was next to a house, and the door of the house was open, all it's occupants long gone.**_

 _ **Alex was sure they wouldn't mind if he used their shed. A darker thought occurred to him-what if they never came back? What if all of them died?  
He shoved the thought away, sprinting towards the door. He wrenched the door open, pulling himself inside, and than closing it. Sitting down on the musty old floor of the shed, Alex tried to slow his breathing. He knew he had been hit in chest. Breathing hard was going to cause more blood to seep out. **_

_**Alex's vision tilted, and than he threw up on the floor of the shed. It looked like ground coffee grounds, and falling back on his training at the SAS camp in Wales, he knew he had internal bleeding.**_

 _ **Nauseous, he turned away, trying to concentrate on anything but the tangy smell of his own vomit. Alex noted the shed was large, built two feet into the ground. There was one large shelf running the perimeter of the whole thing, and on it, were sacks of grain and buckets.**_

 _ **Alex pulled himself to his feet, and searched the shelves for anything useful. He came back with a tin bucket with a crooked handle. It would do. At least if he threw up, it wouldn't be on the floor.**_

 _ **Alex sat down on the floor again. There was moonlight spilling in through a window in the shed. It was a large window, and Alex was tempted to cover the window. However, the idea of being all alone is the dark shed made him uncomfortable.**_

 _ **Alex sat on the floor. He just realized that he was still in the clothes he had worn to bed, boxers and a loose white t shirt. He shivered. The clothes did nothing to protect him against the cold wind blowing through the village now.**_

 _ **There were small jagged scars on his ankles from the day before. He half smiled. Walking through a field full of nettles trying to escape a notorious mob. He thought he had shaken them of his trail, but the attack tonight was proof that he hadn't.**_

 _ **He tilted his head slightly, listening. Yes. It was there. MI6 had arrived. The faint chop chop of helicopters were proof.**_

 _ **There were more shouts and screams outside the shed. Alex glanced once at the door. He had locked it, thankfully. Outside the shed, was a completely different world. One full of suffering and noise and guns and blood. Inside the shed, however, it was only Alex. Tired Alex. Injured Alex. But Alive Alex. It was better than Dead Alex.**_

 _ **He closed his eyes. The attack had taken place around midnight. Alex wasn't sure exactly when. He had left his watch on his bedside table, and the watch was probably gone, along with all his other belongings, but at least he had remembered to activate the watch Smithers had given him.**_

 _ **Thank god MI6 had been so close. He might have had more than one bullet in his body, if it hadn't been for the fact that MI6 had decided to interfere now.**_

 _ **Alex jumped, startled, as a machine gun released a torrent of bullets. There were more screams, and people shouting in foreign languages. Alex covered his ears. He didn't want to hear screaming. He heard it way too much anyways.**_

 _ **Softly, he exhaled. Inhaled. Focused on his breathing. Sleep started creeping back into his brain. Alex held it of as best as he could. He could not afford to fall asleep now, not in such a critical part of the mission, but sleep managed to sneak past his defenses and Alex was soon out cold on the floor.**_

" Make the screaming stop." Alex mumbled, thrashing around. " Stop!" He yelled, than sat up boltright.

There was nurse nearby. She frowned at him, concerned.

" Are you okay, dear?"

Alex took a few shaky breaths. " Yeah," he said, trying to calm down his racing heart. "Just...nightmares."

The nurse nodded sympathetically. " We all get them, especially troubled children." She put a hand on his shoulder. " Feel free to talk to me if you ever need anything, okay?"

Troubled children? Where had that come from? Probably the lie MI6 told the hospital to explain why he was in the state he was in. Alex smiled crookedly.

" Okay." He said. The nurse nodded, satisfied. She ran a few tests on him, before giving him a sleeping pill and leaving the room. Alex, despite his wishes, drifted of to sleep again.

 **A/N: So…the only person who reviewed so far was Teddybearcrazy. Thanks again, Teddybearcrazy!**

 **Anyway, I decided to write the second chapter anyway and get it over with. WARNING: Their might not be another chapter for at least a week, because I have school (Yes, I too, have something called a LIFE)**

 **Please give me some ideas for some new chapter inserts, such as a romantic interest, or someone trying to kill Alex AGAIN ( why is nobody surprised?) because…**

 **The small things count.**


	3. And Drama Starts As Usual

**A/N: Hey, this story has been getting a lot off positive reviews! Crazy, guys, but thanks for the support. Anyways, just letting you guys know that the next few weeks will be quite for Alex, and than some...ah, action will start up. Remember to review and follow! I'd really appreciate the support.**

He woke up with his head feeling like it had been run through a meat pounder.

What a nice way to wake up, Alex thought, unusually grouchy. Made him feel bloody optimistic off the prospect off life and what it had to offer next.

Bright lights, and he lifted himself up on his elbow. Or tried to. Something tugged at his arm, and a sharp sting like something dangerously close to tearing away from his skin. Aah. Alex's throat tightened. A needle. He wished he hadn't seen that.

He lay back down again, turning his head away from the needle in his arm. He wished that his head would stop hurting, and taking those _annoying_ bright lights away wouldn't kill anyone either. And the smell off the hospital...he wrinkled his nose, cranky and angry at everything wrong in the world. Why couldn't they make the hospital smell like living people actually lived there, and not robots? The smell off alcohol made him want to bury his pounding head into his pillow, but off course he couldn't do that. No. That would take those damn needles out.

The AC was too high, and Alex shivered. His head was hot and angry, but the rest off his body was cold. The thing blankets from the hospital weren't doing much to protect him against the cold air, and the only thing in Alex's mind was not being in pain. He rubbed at his pounding head, closing his eyes to try to relieve the heaviness behind his eyelids, but that didn't do much. It barely helped, and Alex ended up snapping his eyes open again to view the world and sulk in peace.

The door opened, and the sounds off high heels on the floor reached Alex's ears. He found it unnerving how the nurses knew exactly when he was awake, and seemed to know exactly when to come. Something went off in his head, a warning bell that shouted at him to listen to his instincts, but he ignored it. It wasn't too suspicious that they should know when he woke up; they were, after all, monitoring him. The nurses were probably instructed to check on him at regular intervals.

Even so, he twisted to watch the nurse come and check his pulse. She was very odd looking. Her eyes had crinkles around them, as if she smiled a lot, and her face was unnaturally pale, as if she had gone a little bit overboard with the powder. As he watched her write down notes on the clipboard all the nurses at had, he noted the clunky gold ring on her finger. Large, but not large enough for her already large hands and fingers. They weren't fat...just muscly and big in general. And sunburned. He found that odd, a woman with a pale face who worked in a hospital with sunburned hands. Again, he felt a prickle off danger, but brushed it of for some reason.

Perhaps it was because he was in a hospital with MI6 survelliance. Perhaps it was because he had just gotten back from a mission, and people weren't supposed to be after him and kill him yet. No, that was supposed to happen in a few weeks, after things died down a bit. Or maybe it was because he didn't really expect anyone to kill him. Alex wasn't that annoying, was he? Sometimes he wondered about that, considering how many people tried to kill him on a daily basis. He worried that his naturally annoying personality was going to get him killed one day, but...well, screw that.

" How are you feeling?"

"Okay…" Alex jerked his eyes away from the nurse.

" Do you need pain medication?"

" No, I'm good thanks."

" I think I'll give it you anyway."

Alex did not like the idea off more drugs being pumped into his system.

" I said, no thank you."

The nurse didn't say anything. Just handed him a small, plastic cup filled with liquid. He sighed, but took the cup in his fingers and tilted the contents back into his head. It tasted horribly bitter, and he tried to recall if pain medication tasted this bitter. No. They were sickly sweet.

There was a terrible feeling in his stomach. He wanted to puke. Groaning, he half turned away. The nurse wasn't doing anything. The world was tilting, and his stomach was contracting painfully.

The nurse. Why wasn't she doing anything? He opened his mouth, to say something, anything, but suddenly, a sense off relaxation washed over him. He calmed down. His stomach muscles relaxed, and the world became hazy and unfocused. Alex had no desire to move anymore. His mind was lazy, sluggish, and he lost all sense off time. He didn't know when, but soon, his eyelids became heavier and heavier, and finally, Alex Rider fell asleep.

 **A/N: Ooh. Cliffhanger. I'm sorry for the major change, guys, but I decided to revise the plot line a little bit. The next chapters will be combined, two chapters in one so expect longer chapters but less off them.**


	4. Limits

****Chapter 3: Can't Ask Nicely****

* * *

 **A/N: Let's get the disclaimer over with… I don't own Alex Rider, unfortunately, but then again, you really can't own a person…so authors are breaking the law by writing!**

 **Joking, joking. ?**

 **So…I have basketball practice for two hours in an hour. I might have to cut this chapter, so sorry if I leave you on a cliffhanger.**

 **And all of those people who are reading this and groaning, don't blame me! Blame the fact that we have a basketball coach who doesn't accept anything below a perfect grade. Yes, that means…**

 **"A 99.9 is unacceptable! Go run 10 laps around the gym, and if I even see you stop once, it will be another 5 laps!"**

 **Nutters. And enjoy.**

Alex woke up again with his head pounding. There was no one on the room this time, and Alex managed to get a few glimpses around his hospital room.

There were pale blue curtains and windows with locks on them. Probably to keep kids from accidentally falling out, thought Alex. The carpeting was shag, and brown. There was a brown bedside table next to his bed. A glass of water occupied his night stand. There was a small sleek black TV remote and a telephone with speed dial numbers listed underneath it on a a plastic card.

Alex gripped his pounding head. It hurt so much, Saying that it was annoying was an understatement. It wasn't annoying. It was a complete and utter nuisance.

Alex considered calling a nurse for an advil or something. He was half way done with dialing the number down to the Lobby when the door open.

He froze as three familiar people entered the room.

" Put the phone down."

He practically threw the phone down.

" What do you want?" He growled. He may have 2 broken ribs and a bullet wound but that was not going to stop him from strangling this person, this despicable excuse off a human being. And his accomplice. He looked at her equally distastefully. She at least had the decency to look ashamed, but him...no, he was just marching into Alex's room as if he damn well owned it!

" Get out off my room."

" It's not your room. Your not the one paying for it." Blunt smiled, and Alex realized with a certain sense off sorrow that the glass off water from before was no longer there. If it had been there, it would have ended up in Blunt's face, half way across the room.

" May I take a seat?" Ms. Jones asked. Alex sighed, annoyed.

" You're the one paying for it, right?" he muttered. " Than don't ask for my permission."

Ms. Jones and Blunt took a seat.

" Do you know why we're here?" Blunt asked.

" To recruit me for another mission." Alex rolled his eyes, adding sarcastically, " That's hardly surprising. What is it this time? Business man making suspicious deals with other countries? So I go in as a delivery boy or something like that and find out what he's doing?"

" You have a very active imagination. No, Alex, we're here to talk to you about your previous mission."

Alex was suddenly wary. He had been trying his best to forget about that mission. He turned his head away, to the side, pretending to look out the window.

" What about it?"

Ms. Jones cleared her throat quietly. " We know that something happened on that mission," she began, " and we want to know what it was."

" Nothing happen."

" How old are you Alex?" Blunt asked suddenly. Alex suddenly felt queasy, but answered anyways.

" 15."

" How many 15 year old girls were in that village?"

"One. Mazim. Why?"

Blunt and Ms. Jones looked at him as if he knew what they should know. Oh…

Alex laughed suddenly. Ms. Jones looked at him.

" What, you think I _shagged_ her?" Alex laughed even harder. "Please. Just because I'm a boy doesn't mean I shag random girls I meet. That's, that's," laughing so hard that he was afriad he might burst his ribs open again, he said, " that's Tom's job!" He kept giggling like he was delirious. Ms. Jones and Blunt looked at each other again, silently asking each other if Alex had suddenly experienced a bout off laughing gas.

Alex managed to compose himself after several solid minutes off laughing.

" No, I didn't shag anyone." He finally said seriously.

" You spent an awful lot off time with a few boys from the village. 19 year olds notorious for using females anyway they wanted to-"

" Doesn't mean I did it."

" We know you didn't. But we want to know something more."

" And what's that?"

Blunt took a deep breathe. " They found a girl, near the creek," he said at last. " She was dead. Brutally murdered. We don't know who or what did it. Her body was horribly disfigured. Her cervix was torn open, and we think she was pregnant. However, due to the injuries and forensic report, she was young, younger than you. 12, we believe. Fingerprints were found on her and they were that off the 19 year old boys you hung around."

Alex felt sick. But Blunt wasn't finished. He gazed steadily into Alex's eyes, searching.

" Your fingerprints were on her wrists."

Something rose in his throat, hot and furious and soon Alex was leaning over the opposite side off the bed vomiting. He hadn't eaten anything for a while; they had given him a muffin, crackers and some apple juice while on the chopper back to Britain, but that was 36 hours ago, and nothing came out except stomach acid and bile. Alex coughed, hacking up everything in his stomach and when he finally came back up again his stomach was rolling and he was drenched in cold sweat.

Ms. Jones offered him a peppermint. Blunt had already called the nurses, and as Alex took the peppermint, a nurse came rushing in through the door. She saw the vomit on the floor and immediately saw Alex drenched in sweat.

" Dear, I think you shouldn't eat normal food for a while. Maybe liquidifed food would be better."

" I don't want food." Alex managed to croak out. He didn't want anything except to go home, to have his memory wiped, to block the painful memories. Starting with the one about Ian dying. His life really had gone downhill from there.

The nurse glanced towards Blunt and Ms. Jones.

" Perhaps it would be best to leave him alone for a few hours."

They got the hint. As soon as they had left the room, the nurse called a janitor and led Alex to the bathroom to wash out his mouth with Listerine. Shakily, Alex forced his body to move, to walk to the bathroom and open his mouth and gargle the sharp liquid in his hot, ragged and torn throat. It cooled down his throat, momentarily, but Alex retched again and had to do the whole thing over again.

The nurse led him back to his room and made him sit in an armchair while the janitor cleaned up the mess. He obeyed, clutching his stomach. Not daring to shut his eyes, he stared at a point somewhere in the distance and when the janitor was done he was led back to his bed and told to go to sleep for a few hours.

For once he obeyed.

 **A/N: Even teenage spies have limits. And that was the limit for Alex.**


	5. Kristoff

**A/N: So…this chapter is short, I know. But I have to update other stories as well, and write up a completely new horror story.**

 **The life of an author is never easy. And must we do this? I don't own Alex Rider. Sorry.**

The next time Jack visited, she bought a visitor. A man.

Alex was smart enough to get the inclination, and felt happy that Jack had found her special someone. But then again, he felt a bit resentful that he had to share the limited time Jack had with this strange man.

This strange man referred to the person who called himself Kristoff. He said he was from somewhere in Eastern Europe, and had light blue eyes, a lean body (he said he worked out) and long, light brown hair. He spoke English with a slight accent that Alex could swear he had heard before.

Kristoff seemed friendly, joking and laughing, and Alex was reminded painfully of Ian Rider. Then, he felt guilty for thinking that someone could replace Ian Rider's position.

As Jack was spending less and less time with him, Ms. Jones started staying longer. She visited mainly in the afternoons, and they talked a bit, about the sports scores, anything but their personal life.

Finally, during one visit, after the formalities like shaking hands, (it was too awkward for a hug) Alex asked her one day the question he was dying to ask her all the afternoons she would come and visit him.

"Are you going to send me on another mission?"

Ms. Jones said nothing. She was sucking another peppermint, and as usual, her eyes were colorless, but for a moment her lips twitched down, and Alex took that as a no.

He sighed, expecting it. Ms. Jones checked her watch. It was 5:30.

"Sorry, Alex, I have to go." Ms. Jones said, getting up. "Take care, and good luck." Alex waved at her, then waited until the door was closed.

Then, he leapt out of his bed, and took out the pin Ms. Jones had used to pin her sleeve. Pickpocketing. A useful skill.

Creeping up to the door, he first tested the knob. Locked. Then, carefully, he slid the pin in the keyhole, and twisted the pin around. There was a click, the pin loosened, and Alex turned the knob and walked silently out the door. He knew exactly where he had to go…

 **A/N: This chapter was mainly based on inspiration and being quick on my feet. I had a writing workshop earlier today, and they gave me some pretty good tips that I used here.**

 **Anyway, please review. I have been getting less reviews and less number of views, and I'm not blackmailing or anything, but if that number reaches a certain point, then I will have to stop writing and move on to another fandom. So at least give SOME indication that you notice me.**

 **Please. Oh, and BTW, I have an account on Wattpad, AmberLily34567. Check out my stories-they are coming soon.**


	6. Mission To The File Room

**A/N: So…to make up for the fact that I have not updated in a week, this chapter will be extra-long. Well, extra-long for ME at least. For all you others, it might actually be a medium sized chapter.**

 **Anyway, thank you to all that reviewed. And I really don't mind, Teddybearcrazy, that you didn't review. You tried your best. (I read your stories on Wattpad! They ARE good. Everyone else, be sure to check them out!)**

 **Disclaimer: No, I don't own Alex Rider. Yes, not even a teeny-weeny lock of hair. I wish, though.**

Alex had slipped out the door, and that was when he realized he wasn't wearing shoes, his ribs were throbbing, and his arm was in a cast, meaning he could injure himself running too fast. That was potentially…problematic.

But there was no time to worry now. He had 15, 20 minutes tops. Ms. Jones would note his absence soon.

The only problem was, he had no way of knowing which way to go. True, he had travelled to practically all the parts of the hospital by this point, but he was mainly unconscious, or covered in a thin white sheet, Alex assumed so he wouldn't figure out that they were wheeling him for another surgery.

He'd have to wing it. The annoying but reassuring part was, that on most of his missions, he had to wing it. So, Alex was familiar in this category.

Then Alex realized something else. He had no weapons, and even if he did, his weapon hand was out of action. Desperately, he checked his pajamas pockets for anything, but the pin he had used was still left in the lock in the room. He put his hand on the doorway, ready to open it, but decided against it. He was wasting precious time.

Alex crept down the carpeted hallways, his feet padding silently along. The good part was that nobody could hear him. The bad part? He couldn't hear anyone else either.

Too many close calls happened this way. A blonde nurse smiling brightly while walking briskly down the large hallway nearly caught him. Alex managed to dive into a random room, that was, thank god, empty. But the nurse's smile had flickered for a moment, then her face cleared, as if she remembered something, and she went walking on.

Alex counted to five, then quickly walked out of the room and in the opposite direction.

He encountered a few more nurses and one doctor, and that's when he realized something strange. All the people he had encountered so far were all coming from the same direction- the direction he was walking in.

Alex ducked into a janitorial closet as two Asian nurses chatted companionly walked down the hallway. His uncle, Ian, had told him that people tell a story. He just had to be observant and figure it out.

So, the next time a nurse (brunette, blue eyes, freckles) walked down the hallway, he tried to tell himself a story about her.

She wasn't tall, although the white heels she wore added to her height. Her brown hair was straight and in a ponytail, and Alex saw that despite her fit appearance, she was middle aged. Her skin was tanned, very deeply, almost hiding the freckles on her face.

Well, that was all good and everything, but it wouldn't be of much help to Alex. He sighed quietly, impatient, and his calm running out. And the nurse was almost out of his view anyway.

Then, Alex saw something glint. Not jewelry; the nurse wasn't wearing any. It was a syringe. And it was filled with something.

From the distance, Alex could only make out that the liquid was blue. But if he had gone closer, he would have seen that the liquid wasn't just blue. It was filled with emerald chunks of green and delicate rosy shades of pink. Almost pretty, they would have been, but for the fact that they were _moving._ They would have been about a millimeter in diameter, but easy to make out amidst the clear blue liquid. He would have also seen that partially hidden behind the syringe was a scalpel. Silver, glinting, and its blade razor sharp, a small hole on its side that could be opened by a Yankee Screwdriver, very rare and hard to find in a common market. (In fact, the one that would be used to open the hole was originally found in an online black market.)

The nurse moved down the hallway, then turned a corner and she was gone. Alex decided against following her; he had almost forgot his original mission.

The file room would be near the main office, or connected. He just had to get past all the doctors, nurses, surgeons, dentists and patients who probably suffered injuries worse than him. He didn't like to think about what those injuries might be.

Since all those nurses and doctors were coming from that direction, he assumed that the office might be there. Then again, they might just have been coming from wherever they were stationed, and Alex was wrong, and that would be even more potentially problematic.

Alex didn't have time to think about that. But then again. He thought wryly, time was something that he didn't seem to have enough of these days.

He had walked for another 2 minutes, and then came a flight of stairs. There was no elevator in sight, something he found strange, considering that they would have to transport patients up and down to the surgery rooms.

There was also no floor number. Luckily, Alex knew what floor he was on. The 4th. That would mean there would be 3 floors up, then the roof (he highly doubted the main office would be up there) and 3 floors down, including the basement.

The office could be in the basement, but that would be illogical. If you were a visitor, you would have to walk all the way down to register, and then back up again. And if you were injured, that would probably hurt like hell. Then again, the hospital could be in the basement, and as illogical as that could be, there was an equal chance that the office could be there.

Alex shook his head. He was confusing himself unnecessarily. He should just go down to the first floor, and check for the office there.

He descended the steps carefully, gripping the railing awkwardly with his good hand. There were no floor numbers, so it was intuition and guessing that made him open the door 2 flights of steps down.

The door opened up to a boring reception, the one found in any hospital in the world, with white walls, boring couches, and a vending machine in the corner. The vending machine was unremarkable as well, just the sort of food you might find in a health junkies kitchens-hummus, pita chips, and 'low-sugar, gluten free, and made with 100 percent fruit' fruit snacks.

 _The perfect cover,_ a thought in his mind came forward. Alex found himself agreeing, then realized what he was just agreeing to. Alex pushed the thought away. He was just a normal patient at this hospital, not an undercover spy. If MI6 wanted him to spy for them, they could ask him, so Alex didn't have to spy. They never asked him.

But still, Alex found himself pondering the thought.

"Can I help you?" A voice, high and clear like a bell, cut through his thoughts. Alex startled, thinking that someone had seen him, but in reality, the receptionist was just greeting another visitor.

Alex frowned. The visitor looked strange to be the sort to walk into a hospital, because the person defied all the rules and unspoken normalities of a hospital.

The person was dressed in black leather, from the boots to the shirt. The only thing that wasn't black leather were the pants, which were jeans, not old and faded, but brand new.

That would-be chapter one of the person. Just the outside look. Alex had a feeling that the person had a deeper secret; in other words, the person was hiding something.

At first, Alex couldn't see the person's hair or face, because of the black hood, but the person shifted a bit to the left, right in the way of an AC unit, and the strong wind blew the hood back a bit, exposing long blonde curls.

Alex narrowed his eyes. The person was a woman. You couldn't tell at first, because the clothes she was wearing fit her loosely, hiding any curves on the body. But now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see the concealed curves, the lithe body with sculpted arms and legs.

The woman finally spokes.

"Yes, I'm here for a person named Carnegie Chilton." Her voice was deep and smoky, slightly American accented. Alex found that strange, that an American would be visiting a British Hospital, no matter how high class it would be.

The receptionist smiled brightly. "Wait just a moment. Let me get the file."

Alex's brow furrowed from his hidden spot at the stairwell. What file? The file on Carnegie Melon? It could have been any file but Alex could never know. Or so he thought.

Because by chance, the receptionist returned with a bright pink file. While this may seem like nothing, think about it very carefully.

How many bright pink files have you seen in your life? The average person sees barely 4 bright pink files per lifetime. Alex figured that there could only be so many bright pink files in the file room.

Speaking of the file room, Alex knew that more than 20 minutes had passed since his escape. If he was going to get to the file room, he would have to move fast. Time was ticking.

The receptionist would be gone for a while, not long, but enough time for Alex to move. The woman was standing there impatiently, fingers tapping a rhythm on the plastic ledge. She didn't see Alex creep behind her stealthily. She also didn't hear the little manila door at the other end of the reception room open, and a small lithe teen boy slip in.

And Alex was inside the reception room.

 **A/N: Well, that's my longest chapter yet. And I got a good bunch of reviews, and lots of them were questions and suggestions, so I'll answer a few.**

 **Yes, Tom Harris and James will visit Alex soon. It's coming up, don't worry. And there won't be romance in this story much, although it may come up once or twice. (Nothing too inappropriate).**

 **As for the two months in the hospital, you right. Way too much time. But don't worry, it's a plot thing. It will all make sense in a while.**

 **And finally, I have been to a hospital. The food is horrible. Ooh! Ooh! I just made an advertisement for hospital food-**

 **Want severe food poisoning?**

 **Go to a hospital!**

 **Want to become taste blind?**

 **Go to a hospital!**

 **Want to puke?**

 **Go to a hospital!**

 **And I know that they do try their hardest to make good food, but still...**

 **You could get food poisoning.**


	7. Jack Is Going To Kill Alex

**A/N: So...I feel like a jerk, because I haven't updated in a long time. I'm so sorry, but I had 8 tests this week, which must be some kind of national record. And I had writer's block, but I'm all good now. :)**

 **Anyways, for those of you who are reading Goverment Issue Blackmail, I took your suggestions, and I read my story again. I have decided there are some major changes I need to make, ASAP. So my story has gone to the garage, and is currently on HIATUS. I might write a Alex Rider short story in the meanwhile, but no promises.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider. That would go to Anthony Horowitz, and as much as I like him for his creativity, I also kind of dislike him because Alex belongs to him and not me. :(**

The thing with file rooms is that you can get lost, Alex thought to himself, closing the door softly behind him.

The first impression he had of the file room was exactly how big it was. Alex had expected it to be cramped, but no, the room here was actually very large and spacious. The ceiling was made of white tile and he couldn't tell what color the floor was because papers, files, and boxes filled with more paper and files covered all of the floor.

He hesitated a bit, not sure where to step first and suddenly unsure of himself. The plan had been to go and grab the file with his name on it,. But now, seeing the towering boxes and papers in a mess around his feet, he didn't know what to do.

Alex finally took a few steps forward, towards a stack of boxes that were filled with plain old manilla files. He took a few out, but all of them were finance records and food bills. He grabbed another box, heavier than the first, and opened it.

This box was different, and not only because it was filled with vials and vials of blue stuff. Alex picked up a vial and opened the plastic cork and pulled it out. It was nothing like the movies.

The vial was moving, and Alex nearly dropped it putting the cork back, There was a label on each of the vials; VIRUSHK488.

Alex closed the box and put it away. He pocketed one of the vials, because he didn't know why, but it felt important. He went through a few more boxes, but it was filled with bills, taxes, and medicines. Nothing like VIRUSHK488.

He turned to leave the room, but a pale pink file on the floor caught his attention. He picked it up and opened it up.

His name was inscribed in black stamping-ALEX RIDER, PATIENT 007. He smiled a bit, 007 was James Bond's number after all. But his smile disappeared as he read the file and saw pictures of him, not all of them with him awake.

There was one with him dressed in a thin plastic gown, unconscious or asleep, it didn't matter. There was something in his arm, no, not in his arm, connected to his arm. Someone's arm was in the photo, but Alex couldn't deduce anything else because whoever's arm it was, was covered in plastic glove on the fingers and a pale blue sleeve. There was something red; Alex squinted. It looked suspiciously like the tomato sauce the hospital served with spaghetti on Thursday's.

Alex studied some more pictures of him. There was one with him covered in a sheet, another with a hoodie on, and a third with no clothes at all.

Alex's cheeks flushed. He wanted to shred the photo, but if he did, they might see that it was missing, and trace it back to him. Alex was under the radar; he would prefer if they didn't know he had gone to the file room.

Alex read more of the file, but there was no more info. Just his name, age, stats like that. He put the file back, and he was crouched down when he felt the cold muzzle of a gun on his neck.

The hairs on his neck rose up, like they always did when someone was pressing a gun or knife into one of his body parts.

" Don't move," It was the American. She had seen him after all.

Alex forced himself to breath. " I wasn't planning on," he replied calmly. He calculated how long it would take to jam his elbow into her solar plexus. The gun was in the way. He would have to punch the nose or head.

" What are you doing here?" She asked him, pressing the muzzle even deeper into his neck. Alex really wished she would stop doing that because it was starting to hurt.

" I got lost. I was looking for the bathroom."

He made his move, twisting out. His first punch missed her nose by inches, but the second crashed into her left eye. She staggered back, the gun loose in her grip, and Alex grabbed the gun and flung it away.

The American was back again. She was winded, but she threw a nasty kick that hit Alex in the ribs. He realized with a sickening in his stomach that she had hit the recent bullet wound and when he moved again, he knew at least one of them was cracked.

The American moved again, a hook to the jaw, but he moved faster, slicing through the air with a kick to the stomach. She staggered, and Alex threw a punch that got her in the nose.

The American was falling down, but Alex was already past her, running out of the file room, clutching his ribs which were popping out like pencils in a plastic bag.

Alex managed to stagger up the stairs before he passed out. The good part was that he passed out only 2 doors from his room. The bad part?

It was five o'clock, and Jack was going to kill him.

 **A/N: So...I got an 88 in my mandarin chinese test, and now I have to catch up othewise I can say goodbye to the prospects of getting a scholarship to Harvard. ( And I really want to go to Harvard)**

 **I won't update for a while. Keep reviewing and making suggestions; I'm still there. Anyways, Tom Harris and James...coming right up!**


	8. Jack Doesn't Flip Like Expected

**A/N: Well, I know this chapter will be really short, but that's because I don't want you readers to read a whole block load of text. How boring is that? That's why I post chapters in short bursts here and there so it's not too overwhelming and all.**

 **Disclaimer: Alex, sadly, does not belong to me.**

Well, Jack was mad, but she didn't flip like he had expected her to. That was good.

The bad news was that he was placed under 'room arrest' and Jack wasn't allowed to bring him any more food from outside. Some maniac somewhere had decided that because of all the junk food Alex was eating (apples and croutons were not junk food) was the reason he had escaped. Alex argued otherwise, saying there was an amazing invention called a lock that they had neglected to put on his door.

"Honestly, Alex, this is getting a bit old now. You can't just decide to stroll out of your room one day because you just feel like it," Jack reprimanded him. Kristoff was there too, his expression strangely unreadable.

"Well, maybe someone should have told me that." Alex replied. "Like, before I decided to stroll out of the room."

"That's not the point! You should have known better. I thought we discussed this." Her expression turned cold. She was talking about the rule she had recently made about "Whatever enemies or whatever new agency is trying to recruit you, it all stays far away."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow impassively at Alex. "You should listen to Jack, Alex. After all, she is your guardian."

Alex's brow furrowed. Kristoff was saying that in an almost accusing way. He turned to him just as Kristof glanced at the steel watch on his wrist, and said "Got to go. Important meeting," and kissed Jack goodbye, who flushed.

Alex wanted to tell them to get a room, but decided not to. Kristoff raised a hand in farewell to Alex.

"Bye, Alexander. Remember what Jack told you-stay away from it all. See you."

Alex smiled at him, and said "See you," and Kristoff left the room. It was only after he left the room that he realized that Kristoff had called him Alexander, not Alex.

 **A/N: Tom and James visit coming up ahead, as promised! Oh, and huge plot twist as well. :)**


	9. Old Friends

**A/N: Okay, so this chapter will be a bit longer than normal. Mainly because I feel kind of guilty that I haven't updated in a while and I have decided that I need to focus on this story a little more.**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned Alex Rider, there would be a whole lot of crazy and probably dangerous things that would happened in the story and after a while, you would probably start becoming concerned about my mental health. :)**

And Alex was back to square one. Stuck in his hospital room with only that teddy bear Ms. Jones had given him for company. Not to insult Ms. Jones or the teddy bear, but the bear was not exactly the best of company. Alex had tried to talk to him, but there was of course, no response. And he knew that he was being monitored. The last thing he needed right now was for MI6 to question his mental health.

Alex had a calendar next to his bed. It was something Kristoff had given him, and he had to admit that it was pretty cool. There were pictures of snow covered tundras, mountains, quiet, ghostly streets, and in the month of February, a girl dressed in camo with large, doe shaped amber eyes. She was glaring at something of screen, her eyes not focused on whoever had taken the photo, but she was pretty. Alex wondered who she was.

The door opened, and Alex was startled out of his thoughts. It was 2 boys led by a nurse. They were bundled up in heavy black coats, and their faces were covered in scarfs, one red, the other green.

Alex stared at them. He didn't quiet recognize them until they took of the scarfs. Tom and James.

"Alex!" Tom exclaimed. "What did you do this time?"

The nurse shut the door quietly behind them, and James and Tom ran up to Alex's bedside.

Alex managed a ghost of a smile.

"Got a bullet in my arm. One in the ribs. Then I broke my ribs again."

James eyes widened. Tom groaned.

"Seriously, Alex? Playing bad boy again?" Tom asked him, taking a seat in the chair next to Alex's bed that Jack or Ms. Jones usually occupied. James sat on the very edge of Alex's bed.

"How are you, Alex?" James asked him very seriously.

Alex shrugged, holding up his arm which was wrapped again in white bandages. He had managed to tear open the stiches he had after his little fiasco 2 days ago.

"Could be better. Then again, I have been in worse." Alex turned to Tom again. "How do you know James anyways?"

Tom and James grinned at each other devilishly.

"Well, we only met each other in the reception room, and that was only because apparently Tom's snack got jammed in the machine," James smirked at Tom, who flushed.

"In my defense, the machine stole my money and denied me my snack. Seeing as Alex was not around to help me, I picked someone who seemed to have quite a few muscles and a brain as well to get me my snack."

"Did you get your snack?" Alex asked, curious.

"Nope," Tom said simply. "The pretty lady at the desk told us to stop."

"And did you?"

Tom shrugged. "Let's just say that it took a lot more than that to convince us to stop attacking the vending machine."

For a moment, Alex had an image of Tom and James attacking a black seemingly ordinary machine armed with only with their bare fists. He managed to shove it out of his mind.

"Anyways, anything interesting happened Alex?" James asked him. He shook his head.

"No, for once, things are really boring."

Tom and James looked surprised.

"But Alex, you have no homework- "

"You can watch TV all day- "

"Or listen to music whenever you want- "

"And chew gum! Don't forget the gum!"

Alex held up a hand. James and Tom quieted down.

"Yeah, but there's so much RNA ANA21 you can watch before you become bored. I think I'm ruined from life from that…." Alex sighed, wishing he could get out of bed and go play some football or something.

Tom saw the look in his eyes.

"Want to go play football?"

"But what about-?" Alex paused as James held up a safety pin he had in his pocket.

"Do your magic, spy boy," he said, handing the pin to Alex.

20 minutes later found the boys outside in a nearby park kicking a ball around. It had been easy to smuggle Alex out. All they had to do was give Tom's coat to Alex, turn the jacket inside out, and put on a pair of sunglasses that were by Alex's bedside. Then they put a stack of napkins in each of Alex's shoes, so it looked like he was taller and walking weird, and they were out. The receptionist didn't glance twice.

Alex had to take it easy. He couldn't exactly do any stellar game changing moves, but he was still better then James and Tom.

After Alex made his fifteenth goal, James glanced at his Rolex watch and told them they should probably start heading back.

It was a bit harder smuggling Alex inside again. They had to sign him in as 'David Watherman', and even then, the receptionist was staring at them suspiciously.

"I think I recognize you from somewhere," she said. "You look like that patient in room 444."

James was sweating next to him. Tom cleared his throat, laughed nervously, and said, "Really? Well, what a coincidence! I cannot believe that Al- _David_ looks like your patient. That's a one in million chance."

The receptionist gave him another look ever, then grudgingly told them that the elevator was to the left.

Inside the elevator, they removed the coat and sunglasses off Alex, and crept back to his room. No one had noticed they were gone. That was good.

Alex lay back down on his bed again, and Tom and James started up a light conversation until five. Then Jack and Kristoff came to visit, and after a goodbye and another promise to visit, they left.

Jack stared curiously at their retreating backs.

"So…" she said. "What did you guys do?"

Alex shrugged. "Just talked about stuff. Chelsea, school, James new girlfriend…"

"Did you talk about Sabina?"

"No, Tom said she already has this guy named Blake." Alex shrugged again.

"Are you jealous?"

"No, not really."

Jack looked at him as if expecting him to say more, and when he didn't, she sighed.

"Well, it's good to know you're getting some actual human interaction." She gave a pointed look at his teddy bear.

"I get human interactions."

Jack gave him a wry smile. "Talking to the teddy bear doesn't count."

Alex rolled his eyes, and changed the subject. "So…what about you and Kristoff? Anything I should know? Wedding bells ringing?"

Jack blushed, and lightly slapped Alex on the arm.

"Alex!"

"Yes, Jack?" He put on an innocent look. Jack rolled her eyes, then glanced at her watch.

"Listen, Alex, I have to go somewhere. I'll come and see you tomorrow. Is that all right?"

Alex nodded. Kristoff had said nothing throughout the meeting. He was glancing at Alex with a peculiar expression.

Jack's phone rang. Holding up a finger, she stepped out of the room to take the call.

Kristoff finally spoke.

"So, Alex," he said. Alex noted that he didn't say Alexander. Perhaps it had been his imagination.

"What have you been up to?"

Alex stared at him, not comprehending. "I'm sorry, what?"

Kristoff repeated his question. Alex shrugged.

"I watched TV, talked to Tom and James, they are my friends by the way, and listened to music."

Kristoff just nodded in response. Jack's call ended, and she stepped back into the room.

"Should we go?" She asked Kristoff. He nodded.

Jack went out the door. Kristoff lingered for a second.

"Oh, Alex," he said. Alex turned to him.

"You are a good soccer player." And then he plucked a strand of grass from Alex's hair and left. It was after he left that Alex realized that his heart was pounding faster than normal.

 **A/N: So, I need some beta readers to review my stories and make suggestions. Anyone interested please email me and I will sign you up as a beta reader.**

 **Thank you for your cooperation everyone. I will also be starting a new story on Wings of Fire sometime soon, so be sure to check that out.**


	10. The Great Gatsby

Sometime Alex wondered if he was irritationaly stupid on purpose sometimes, or if it were genes. Maybe John Rider was like him when he was little. Or Ian. Alex tried to imagine Ian Rider making a stupid mistake or saying something stupid at the wrong time, but the image was too disturbing.

He was reading a book that his whole school was apprently supposed to be reading. The Great Gatsby. Alex found it surprisingly strange and disturbing at the same time. He could think of a million other things than hearing about some lady's love life. Like jumping off a helicopter. Maybe being tied to a pole while having the latest criminal mastermind yell his plan into his face. Or maybe not.

Someone entered his room. He managed to look up briefly and catch a glimpse of a white surgical mask and dull green eyes that were somehow dull and shiny at the same time. Glossy? Yes. That was the last thing Alex thought about before he drifted of into a hazy sleep, filled with static and disturbing dreams of The Great Gatsby.

A/N: Okay, so I know this chapter is really short, but to make up for it, I will be posting another chapter in probably another hour or so. So look out for it.


	11. Duct Tape and Cotton Wads

When he woke up, he realized three things.

One, he was pretty much naked. Except for his boxers, there was not a scrap of clothing on him.

Second, he was tied down to a bed. He moved his head a bit and saw that his arms and legs were secured with stretchy leather straps. He flexed his arm; the straps expanded slightly, but other then that, it stayed on.

And lastly, he realized that there was a tray of tools next to the bed. A knife, a scapel, 3 injections, some gauze bandages, and he realized with sickening, a roll of duct tape and cotton wads. Duct tape + being tied down + being nearly naked = the inevitable, surgery. And not with your consent.

Someone entered the room. Alex felt something rise in his throat, hot and angry. He swallowed it down; it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and his brain unhelpfully supplied that it was bile.

The person stepped closer to him, and Alex got a look at them. It was the same person who had drugged him (now that he thought about, he did remember a sharp pinch before nothingness).

" Alex Rider," the person's eye's glinted with amusement. They picked up the knife in one hand and at the same time, the duct tape and cotton wad in their other.

Alex managed to yell one foul word at them, before they stuffed the cotton wad into his mouth. Then, they ripped off a large amount of duct tape and taped it over his mouth.

He was painfully aware of the knife flashing once before the person picked it up...


	12. Surgery

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated so long! I was on vacation, and than I got sick, plus I tripped over my fan, tore the top of my foot and ended up twisting my ankle. Anyways, due to a new ban my parents have imposed saying that me and my brother will only get electronics on Saturday and Sunday, I will no longer be able to update regularly. The only way I have managed to write this is because I 'borrowed' my mother's computer for a few hours so I can update all my stories. I might be a bit late in saying this, but happy holidays and happy new year everyone, if you celebrate anything. I didn't really wish for anything for christmas, except that Alex Rider were real. :)**

 **Disclaimer: No, it's not going to change. Alex Rider is always the brain child of Anthony Horowitz.**

The moment before the knife plunged into his skin, Alex's brain went, _this always happens to us! Why us?_

 _Because we are all idiots who live of getting nearly killed everyday. Also, MI6._ Alex said back.

There was a stabbing pain in his shoulder. Aah, the knife had made his mark. They hadn't even given him a sedative. If there wasn't cotton in his mouth, he would have opened his mouth and asked them what type of hospital performs surgery without a sedative.

Great. He was going delirious. While someone was trying to remove his organs or whatever, he was trying to get killed by asking questions with answers that he wasn't supposed to know. Like politics.

There was another sharp stinging pain. Alex knew better than to look down. Something wretched inside his skin. He wanted to yell. His eyes were watering and there was the sudden feeling of being horribly exposed. What if the person wanted to plunge the knife down into his heart? Alex couldn't even fight him, because he was tied down, and if he tried anything, it would take less than a second to plunge the knife into his heart.

There was momentary relief as the person put the knife down and opened a packet of something. Tissues? Alex highly doubted it.

He was proved correct when they pulled out something small and metallic. Carefully, he picked up a tweezer, picked up the metallic thing from the palm of his hand, and gingerly bought the tweezer close to Alex's shoulder.

Alex's eyes widened. He glanced down at his shoulder. There was a small cut there with a flap of skin moved aside to form a small cavity. He put two and two together as the person gently put the metallic thing into the cavity.

It was a curious feeling. The metallic thing was light. He would probably have never noticed it had it not been that the thing was impossibly cold. The person pushed the flap of skin down over it. There was a slight bulge, but the person pressed down. A sharp stab of pain. Than it was over.

The person stitched his shoulder up, than left the room. The person never once gave Alex a second look.

Alex was glad it was over, and also glad that he hadn't had any of his organs removed. Sure, he was stuck in this horrible room, but he considered himself lucky to be alive. Although what about that little metallic thing?

He had not been able to get a close look. A microchip? Possibly. But why would a hospital place a microchip inside a patient's body? Didn't they need some sort of special permission for that?

Alex's head hurt. Someone entered the room again, but his eyelids were too heavy to get a look at them. Soon, all he could see was the darkness of his eyelids.

 **A/N: So I'm going to be editing this story a bit. Give me some suggestions so I know which parts to edit. Remember, your contributions count!**


	13. Chapter Thirteen Part One

Alex knew it had been a bad idea to go snooping in the file room. Honestly, he didn't understand his motivation to go snooping there.

He remembered what Blunt had said.

"You brought this on yourself, Alex. Your too curious for your own good. You go places where you shouldn't be going," and all that other cras. Okay. He admitted that he was a bit too curious for his own good. But weren't children supposed to be curious like that? Wasn't it normal for kids to be curious like that?

He was jerked out or his thoughts by someone entering the room. Alex raised his head up as best as he could; it was the American he had encountered in the file room.

She looked the same. Her jeans were different, darker, and she had traded her leather jacket for a blouse. There was a dark bruise above her lip, which was curled, and a clever smoky eye hid her actual black eye.

" And we meet again." She said, moving closer to him. Alex didn't like her so close to him. Despite the fact that he had managed to take her down, Alex had felt the muscles concealed underneath her jacket. He had felt the raw power behind every push or hers. He had also felt something clunky in her jacket and had known it was a gun. Nothing else could compare to a gun.

There was a smell like flowers. It smelled nice. Alex forced himself to concentrate on the situation at hand. He had once heard that tobacco smelled nice too, like vanilla. Funny how the nicest smelling things were the ones that killed you.

The gag was ripped from his mouth. Alex gasped. He could breathe again!

" How are you Alex?" The American asked. She was so close to him now that he could make out her eye color. Green. With flecks. They might have been pretty had they not held a killer's murderous gaze.

He swallowed. " I'm good, thanks. How are you feeling?" He asked innocently, knowing that her eye and nose were probably still hurting. The woman smiled coldly.

" The doctor said I will be better in a week. The bruises and scars will fade down within two months. Sadly, what I am about to do to you will leave permanent scars, which is shame, considering that you have _such_ a nice face."

Alex blinked. He had a nice face? That seemed like a weird thing to say in this kind of context.

The woman got up, pulling on a pair or surgical gloves.

" Do you know who I am?" She asked as she pulled on her second glove with a snap.

Alex shook his head. " Please do inform me."

The woman grabbed the gag again and stuffed it in his mouth. Alex nearly choked. The gag had after all been soaking in his own spit for a while, and it reeked. It tasted bad. Alex tried to push it out again, but the woman covered his mouth while ripping or a wad or duct tape and put it over his mouth.

" Your contributions are not required Alex." She smiled at him. Alex wished he could punch her again, possibly mauling her. Instead, he gave her a glare.

" And to answer your question," she went on, " My name's Acuna Three. You might think I'm American. I am. My mother and father, however, had an obsession with anime, so they decide to ruin their only child's life by naming her after a famous anime character."

Alex realized this was going to be a long talk. He hated it when villain's decided to tell their life story to him before deciding to kill him. What was the point? He was going to die anyways.

" Cut to the bullshit," he tried to mumble through the gag, annoyed that his final moments were going to spent listening to yet another villan's life biography. Acuna glanced at him once.

" You may think this is boring. However, seeing a you are already going to die, and very painfully, I feel the need to inform you why I will kill you."

She picked up a knife, tasting the point with her finger. Alex swallowed. Was she going to cut him? Open up his innards? Donate all his organs? On a previous mission, exposing the Snakeheads, his heart had an estimated value of one hundred thousand. His blood would sell for a quarter million, per pint. His eyes would fetch at least 500 each. It had made Alex so sick to think that if he had stayed any longer around the compound, if something had gone wrong, how within a day he would have been on an operating table with his eyes taken out, blood being steadily extracted from his arm one agonizing pint at a time, his chest cut open and his heart extracted from the cavity-

Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Alex squeezed the memories away. He was not going to think about this again. He had escaped. That was what mattered.

Acuna seemed to be aware of his memories. She smiled. " Yes, I heard about your little mission with the Snakeheads. It's really a shame." She brushed a strand of fair hair of his forehead. " Your pretty looks alone could have bought 50,000 dollars."

Alex swallowed, his throat dry. He was almost glad that he was gagged, because he was afraid that he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid. Really stupid, such as, " And people actally want to be pretty!"

Acuna cleared her throat. " I was born in New York, " she began, " in a mansion a little outside of the big city. My mother was an architect. My father was a businessman. I had a older sister. I despised her. Tragically, she was killed."

Alex had no doubt who had killed her.

" In college, I studied psychology and went on to become a psychologist. I especially specialized in special cases."

" What kind of special cases?" Alex asked as best as he could through the gag, despite himself.

" Troubled children. PTSD victims." Acuna glanced at him again. " However, I soon became bored with my occupation. And than I met SCORPIA. They offered me a position as a psychologist."

It slowly dawned on Alex. " Your with SCORPIA?"

" Yes."

" Dr. Three-?" Alex asked. Acuna's face twisted into a grimace.

" Aah, yes, him." She said, sounding as if he were the vilest thing she had ever met. " I'm married to him."

Alex eye's widened.

" Arranged marriage," she explained.

 **A/N: Okay, so I have to cut this chapter short because I have to go somewhere urgently. I am so sorry for the cliffhanger, and I am starting to edit my story so I might just edit my story and not post anything for a couple of weeks.**


End file.
